


Not To My Taste

by Willa Shakespeare (AnonEhouse)



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Awkward Seduction, Crack Treated Seriously, Epistolary, Fluff and Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/803847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Willa%20Shakespeare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Honestly, Avon often seemed to be 'pulling Blake's pigtails' and then pouting when he didn't get attention.</p><p>But I bet Blake had noticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not To My Taste

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

It was quiet in Avon's quarters. He was off-duty and relaxing, sitting in a reasonably comfortable chair before his desk. He had a glass of wine, soft music playing, and a book held tenderly in his hands. It was a diary, actually. His.

> _'Day 145. Poisoned Blake's porridge yesterday. Unfortunately, Vila ate it & was grossly flatulent for the rest of the day. Will try again.'_
> 
> _'Day 146.'_

Avon rolled the pen between his fingers while he thought. "Let's see, what _haven't_ I done?" He turned to the beginning of his diary and began leafing through entries at random.

> _'Day 3. Seduced Jenna with object to abandon Blake on nearest planet. Jenna not entirely unreceptive. Gan walked in at an inopportune moment, and Jenna had attack of loyalty. Will try again."_
> 
> _'Day 20. Cross-wired Blake's gun to explode next time it is fired. In the course of experimenting with Zen's self-repair, the ship's computer not only corrected the wiring, it installed a fail-safe. Will try again."_
> 
> _'Day 39. Bribed Vila to 'accidentally' lock Blake in next Federation stronghold we attack. Blake gave stirring 'brotherhood' speech on flight deck which brought tears to Delta's eyes. Will try again."_
> 
> _'Day 42. Bought Blake 'present' from Pisces Prime- aquarium of 'decorative' walking piranha goldfish for his private quarters. Gan bought dagger-cat at same shop. Cat ate fish before fish could eat Blake. Will try again.'_
> 
> _'Day 70. Arranged electrical 'malfunction' in Blake's shower. Blake's hair _very_ curly. Will try again.'_
> 
> _'Day 82. Improperly decoded Federation transmission, leading Blake to search Fungi Twelve, planet of poisonous vegetation, for 'cure' for mind-wipe. Cally made stroganoff from Blake's harvest. Vila got hiccups. Will try again.'_
> 
> _'Day 115. Got Gan drunk. Convinced him Blake was actually the trooper who murdered his woman. Limiter kicked in. Gan very annoyed with me for hangover. Will try again.'_
> 
> _'Day 120. Used Orac's thought-carrier wave to induce suicidal tendencies in Blake. Blake attacked heavily armed Federation base by himself. And came back. Will try again.'_
> 
> __

Avon shook his head. "I'm running out of ideas. Let's see. There must be something I haven't tried." He returned to the nearly blank page of...

> _'Day 146...._

A hand reached in over Avon's shoulder, picking up the pen and writing, 'Blake is on to me,' in heavy, black letters quite unlike Avon's precise calligraphy.

Avon turned, his eyes glittering, to face his nemesis. "How did you get in here?"

Blake shook his head. "The question isn't how, Avon. It's why."

"I take it you've already seen this," Avon remarked, pushing the leather-bound book almost to the edge of the desk.

"Yes. Vila fetched it for me yesterday." Blake was looking at Avon in a curious fashion.

"Well, then, say something." Avon crossed his arms and leaned back in an 'I don't give a damn' pose. "I've been trying to kill you from the very beginning. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Yes, actually, it does." Blake moved closer, until he had Avon trapped in his chair. He lowered his head until their eyes were only inches away. "It means you've been trying to get my attention."

Avon broke the stare, looking at the wall over Blake's left shoulder. "It means I want you dead."

Blake shook his head again. "It means you want _me_."

Avon flushed. "Don't be absurd." He shoved at Blake's shoulders, but it was like shoving at one of Liberator's herculaneum bulkheads. Only Blake was... Avon pulled his hands back quickly. "Let me go."

"Where do you want to go, Avon? To bed? That can be arranged." Blake hugged Avon to himself and stood, taking Avon with him. 

Avon felt the thumping of Blake's heart against his own chest, and couldn't resist leaning against him. For an instant. Then he was trying to get away again, and this time Blake let him go. Of course, Blake was between Avon and the door, so he couldn't get very far. In fact, the only path open to him led to the bed. He stopped and whirled to face Blake. "Don't think you can seduce me to your inane cause," he snapped, chest rising and falling faster all the time.

"Of course not," Blake replied, keeping his gaze locked with Avon's even while his fingers undid buttons and loosened laces on the outrageously piratical shirt he was wearing - the soft,suede one that smelled wonderfully of male animal. "I only need to seduce _you_ to _me_ , although I think that's past tense."

"Oh hell," Avon said softly, as Blake undid his trousers, and something remarkable came into view. Avon dropped to his knees, and held out his arms.

Blake chuckled. "Does this mean you don't want me to leave?" Blake leaned against the wall while he yanked off first one heavy shoe and then the other. He let the trousers fall and walked out of them. He hadn't been wearing undergarments. Or even socks. 

Avon blinked at this obvious sign of pre-meditation. For once, it appeared _he_ had rated a Blake plan. "I want you to come, you thick-headed rebel," Avon said, staring considerably below Blake's eye level. "But first, come here."

"Not until I see what I'm getting myself into. Strip."

Avon's eyelids fluttered. "Will you leave me no secrets?" He rose and began taking off his clothes. Perversely, he did it slowly, tormenting the both of them.

"Only the ones you don't want to share," Blake replied, devouring Avon with his eyes. Avon was very pretty, but that didn't matter as much to Blake as the arrogant upward thrust of that cherry-red organ. Avon _wanted_ him. Despite what he'd read between the lines in Avon's diary, he had considered the possibility that the whole thing was simply one more plot to make him look the fool. 

Naked and shivering slightly, Avon stood his ground. "Well?" he asked.

"Well." Blake moved closer, and circled Avon, appraising every inch with hand and eye and mouth. By the time he'd finished his inspection Avon was shaking visibly, mouth open and panting. "Better than well, I'd say," Blake commented into the hollow of Avon's throat. 

Avon groaned, and fought his way out of Blake's grip. He backed up, gasping. "Now, Blake," He said as he landed on his knees on the hard deck with a thump that had Blake wincing in sympathy.

"Yes, Avon. Now," Blake said, his deep voice dropping even further. Three steps and he was standing above Avon. 

Avon's hands reached up, thumbs circling, digging into the muscle of Blake's thighs. He glanced up at Blake, just to make certain he wasn't being silently laughed at. The expression on Blake's face was all he could ask for. A few of the knots in his stomach loosened, and he opened his mouth, leaning forward to take Blake. 

Blake was _very_ clean. It was almost insulting, as if Blake had _known_ what Avon would like, but how could he? Avon had been very careful never to put any of his fantasies down in writing or speak them out loud where anyone, human or computer, could possibly overhear. 

Probably another example of his famed 'people sense'. Avon's hands moved, slipping around heavily muscled buttocks to explore uncharted territory. Ah. Blake had at least intentions of being reciprocal. Avon's finger slid into a well-greased hole which opened with practiced ease.

Blake groaned and moaned theatrically,thrusting deeply. Avon rocked back on his heels, caught his balance, and continued. He was pleased to discover that Blake _could_ be led, as he crooked his finger in a come hither gesture. 

"Avon!" Blake shouted, doubled over to clutch at Avon's shoulders and came heroically. Of course. 

Avon swallowed, moving back to ease his position. Blake was hanging onto him, and beginning to show signs of maudlin affection as he revived. Not unanticipated. Avon wriggled out of Blake's embrace, and went to the bed, sitting down on the edge, and taking his erect cock in one hand. He gazed expectantly at Blake.

"No cuddle?" Blake asked, then sighed as Avon's gaze sharpened. "All right, all right." He got up and ambled to the bed. He flopped gracelessly down across the width of the bed, nearly bouncing Avon off in the process. "Got lube?" he muttered, face down in the covers.

"And if I haven't?" Avon asked, even as he rummaged for the handy tube of skin lotion he kept in the side-drawer of his bedside unit.

"Oh, well, I suppose it wouldn't be a _big_ problem," Blake remarked, tilting his head just enough so that Avon could see one laughing eye.

"Quality over quantity," Avon replied, pouring cool lotion over heated skin. He hissed and arched at the sensation. And at the way Blake was looking at him. Suddenly, there was no more time, and he was on top of Blake, spreading those generous buttocks and pressing himself to that unguarded opening. "AHH!"

Blake grunted and shifted, relaxing into the frantic thrusts. Avon wanted it to be spectacular, impressive, and terribly, terribly deflating to Blake's ego. Unfortunately, his self-control wasn't up to the task- not after all this time making do with one-handed exercises and Vila's Little Delta Book of Pictures. Barely half-a-dozen strokes, and he was screaming out Blake's name and clinging to the man, sobbing with relief. How embarrassing. Almost as if he cared. With the last shreds of his pride in tatters, he pulled out and collapsed next to Blake, panting.

After a moment Blake sat up (albeit slowly and carefully) and looked fondly down at Avon. "You could have simply asked, you know, instead of trying to kill me while I tried to convert you to the cause. It would have saved us both a lot of time and wasted effort."

"Not my style," Avon muttered. His lashes fluttered and he tapped at Blake's groin, grinning. "Not to my taste." He rolled over, back to Blake and pretended to go to sleep,

Blake laughed and got up. He stretched and walked over to the desk, picking up the pen to write, 'Will try again,' before turning back to comment idly, "Travis has been trying to kill me, too. I wonder if he..." but his last words were muffled by the pillow Avon threw at him.


End file.
